This day couldn't have ended better, Martin thought, throwing himself on the bed fully clothed. His first day in a dream job! Martin still had the terrible but exciting roar of the engines of some of the fastest vehicles on the face of the earth in his ears. Obviously GP2 is not F1, but the impression was great anyway!
Martin closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Although he was in his small apartment in an old block of flats, he could have sworn he could smell gasoline, exhaust fumes, car oil, grease and… cigarettes. The fragrance of a truly masculine world.
Suddenly he sat up and, with a broad smile on his face, took the phone out of his pocket. After a tiring but rewarding first day at work, Martin had a date with Ami. First they went to dinner and then to the movies. Although a little shy, Martin asked his new girlfriend to take some selfies. Now the boy was browsing the photos, feeling that his life couldn't get any better. Who of his school friends can boast of such a unique work, the opportunity to meet their idol and see him day after day, and a girl like a dream?
He chose a photo of them sitting at a table with their heads very close together. They were both smiling happily and Ami was holding a bouquet of pink and white daisies. The flowers suited her, he decided. He may not know flowers, but he has always found daisies underrated. According to him, they were strong, beautiful and full of joy, just like his Ami. Could he wish for more?
He put the photo as the background of the display, replacing the one that was standard for his phone model. He withdrew any customization settings after Heather left him. Now, after so many months, it was the first time he's decided on something more personal. He couldn't talk about love yet, but he liked Ami more and more, and who knows where his feelings will go if they meet again and again? Martin was looking forward to this adventure.
Too excited to fall asleep, Martin eventually overslept. He did not hear an alarm clock in the morning, nor did he hear it beep every few minutes. When at last rested and happy he stretched himself half asleep, he realized that the sun was already higher than it should be. He jumped out of bed and, having no time to even brush his hair, dressed hastily and ran out to catch the bus. The stop was actually nearby, because he lived near the bus terminus, but he had to hurry up.
The lack of time to waste raised his adrenaline, but it didn't make him feel worse. Martin ran down the steps of his staircase full of energy like a hurricane, past his neighbors. He said a happy "good morning" to everyone and ran straight out into the morning sun.
Its neighborhood was a typical old-style block of flats, but with nice, well-kept greenery and a few trees near a small playground. If Martin ran that way and cut a small square, it would save up to twenty seconds. Without thinking, he walked in that direction.
But just as he passed the sandbox, he heard loud, childlike crying. Martin braked as if he had brakes in his heels. It was not unusual for a child to cry so desperately, but Martin did not hear the comforting voice of an adult, and that could mean that something happened to the child in the absence of the caregiver. The mechanic looked around. There was no one in the sandbox or at the swings, but under the tree, holding hands, were standing two black-haired kids. The boy might have been three, the girl looked no more than seven. It was the boy who was crying and the girl, very absorbed, was looking at the tree's crown. Only then did Martin hear something else - a little kitten crying. The mechanic looked up and saw in the higher branches a gray-haired kitten with ruffled hair and tail like a bottle cleaner.
So it was all that, Martin reassured himself. And he was afraid that something really bad had happened to the child!
Nevertheless, the little boy's cry was truly excruciating, and the girl looked as if she was about to cry in a moment. They both looked terrified and helpless.
Martin could not remain indifferent to such obvious suffering.
"Don't worry, it's a cat," he approached the children with a warm, reassuring smile. "Cats naturally walk on trees. He will come down by himself.
"But he's so tiny," replied the girl, giving the impression that in a moment something inside her would burst and shed a few liters of tears on him. "Marble is so scared."
"A Marble, right? That's your kitten's name?"
"Yes. Help him, please ..."
There is nothing scarier for a man than a woman's tears, even if this woman is only a few years old. Could he leave her to fate?
Martin sighed. His bus was probably just leaving. He would have to explain hard to Allen why he was late on the second day of work. However, he could not leave the three crying children, because the kitten also looked as if he was about to weep to death out of terror and despair. Anyway, it was too late to catch this bus, so he had a lot of time until the next one.
"Don't worry," he reassured the kids. "I'll help Marble get off the tree."
The girl's eyes flashed and the boy stopped crying.
It is true that Martin was no longer a teenager, but he still remembered how to climb the trees, especially since this tree had its first branches low enough for him to grasp them freely. It took him just a moment and one good bounce from the ground and he reached the higher branches, where the kitten was. The little animal was so scared that it looked more like a hedgehog than a cat with its spiky coat, but as a child, Martin had cats, so naturally he began to speak to him in a gentle, reassuring voice. The kitten, herded to the very top of the branch, yelled at him and snorted, but allowed himself to be picked up and led dow the tree. Only here, in one great leap, he escaped from Martin's hands, leaving three bloody traces on his right hand.
The sudden pain made the man hiss. While standing on the ground, he saw the kitten run away and two kids rush after him, calling for him to wait for them. The girl stopped suddenly, turned and called to Martin with a smile:
"Thank you, sir! Thank you very much!"
Then she caught up with her brother and together they started looking for a kitten who hid somewhere between the grass.
Martin's hand was burning with living fire. Such scratches were not dangerous to humans, but they painfully reminded us that although cute and sweet, cats were nevertheless ruthless predators. Droplets of blood had already spilled from the torn skin on the back of his hand. As if nothing had happened, Martin took a packet of tissues from his pocket and held one of them to his wound.
The girl already had a kitten in her arms, which regained his composure in her arms, and the little one with her brother started walking towards the building where Martin lived. It seemed that he was a neighbor closer to them than he had expected.
The good deed done in the morning put Martin in an even better mood. Abe Allen will yell at him, but at least three children - two human and one cat - regained a smile thanks to him. It was worth it.
The time Martin had suddenly gained for the next bus he decided to use for breakfast. Instead of going home, where stale bread and unsavory-looking cheese were waiting for him, Martin decided to go to a nearby breakfast bar. He had no idea if they had tasty food, but he wouldn't know if he didn't try it.
The bar was small and a bit dingy, but after all, Martin was not in the richest part of town. It didn't bother him anyway. He himself did not come from the richest family, and in the times when he was racing amateurs, he often spent the night and ate in much worse places to save money. In this bar the oilcloth on the tables was worn but clean, so he sat down comfortably at the table and ordered scrambled eggs.
The vicinity of the bus terminus meant that even at such an early hour there were a lot of customers in the bar. People from the surrounding villages come to the bigger city every day to work or to school. Some had buses so early that they didn't even have time to eat breakfast at home, so ate it here.
The waitress, smiling, brought him scrambled eggs. She was clearly busy, but hadn't forgotten the importance of smiling at the client, so he answered her the same. After all, a smile brightened people's day.
The scrambled eggs weren't the worst, although his mother was making better. Martin was sitting by the window and staring at the street where traffic was almost full. The morning rush hour was just beginning.
Suddenly, across the street, Martin saw a familiar black sports car and the equally familiar silhouette of a man stepping out of it. The man was wearing the same clothes as yesterday. Although he parked (illegally) in front of a well-known coffee chain, he did not come inside. He stopped, looked to the left, and suddenly ran towards the side street. Intrigued, Martin forgot that he was having breakfast and stared motionlessly out the window. Suddenly, someone screamed and a teenager flew out of the alley with a loud bang and hit his butt on the pavement.
Martin got up in surprise.
There was clearly something going on in a side street.